


who could ever leave me darling (but who could stay?)

by tigerlilycorinne



Series: AUgust 2020 Short Fic [21]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe– Professional Rivals, Auror Partners, Getting Together, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, Pining Draco Malfoy, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Self-Indulgent, idiots to lovers, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26031028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerlilycorinne/pseuds/tigerlilycorinne
Summary: Draco is lucky... or he was. He was lucky enough to get partnered with Harry Potter, who aside from being a record-breaking Junior Aurors partner, also happens to be the idiot Draco has been pining after for... well, it doesn't do to mention it.Because he's not lucky anymore– Harry Potter has filed for partner reassignment, and Draco has no idea why.Well, okay, he has a little bit of an idea why, but he doesn't want to think about that. Even if it's all he's been thinking about for days.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: AUgust 2020 Short Fic [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1856617
Comments: 12
Kudos: 265





	who could ever leave me darling (but who could stay?)

**Author's Note:**

> I seem to find myself very attached to the canon universe, but it's AUgust... Title is from Taylor Swift's "Archer".

Draco took one step into his Auror office and stopped in his tracks.

“Hello,” said the man there. 

The man that was not Potter. 

He had bright blue eyes, not sparkling green ones, and a scruffy beard, instead of being cleanshaven, a wide frame instead of tall and muscled, and a jovial smile, not a challenging grin. 

He was not Harry Potter, Draco’s Auror partner. 

“My name is Frederick Peterson, but I reckon you oughtta call me Freddie if we’re going to be partners, eh?”

He sounded like a jolly, middle-aged man, not the kind of guy you’d be partnered with in Junior Aurors. _What the hell was going on_? 

Actually, Draco had a little bit of an idea. Potter had filed for partner reassignment, obviously, because _Draco_ certainly hadn’t, certainly would _never_ – but that was a whole other heartache he didn’t want to think about– and Draco had a little bit of an idea why. A giant fucking idea why.

“Draco Malfoy,” he responded, holding out his hand politely.

“Oh, yes, of course. I know _you_.” Strangely enough, Frederick didn’t seem all that upset about getting _Draco Malfoy_ of all people as his Auror partner, as anyone else in the Junior Aurors probably would, which again made Draco wonder if this guy was new, or maybe from another class, or another division…? “You and Potter made quite a splash, hey? Unbeatable, is what I hear.”

“Yes. Well. Not anymore, it seems. It’s you and me, and I expect us to be just as productive, if not more so. If I could manage that much work with Potter nipping at me all the time, I should hope we’ll be able to keep up with my rates.” Draco scowled at him to show he was serious and gestured to the desk that used to be Potter’s that he and Potter had… had– “And you can call me Malfoy.”

Freddie blinked at him (Draco would _only_ call him Freddie because Frederick was altogether a hassle) and frowned. “What’s got your knickers in a twist? I don’t know if we’ll be able to match your previous rates, to be honest, Mr Malfoy. Far from _nipping at you_ , I hear he’s rather a wonder in the field. Reckon you have any stories?”

“Oh, bloody hell. If you’re here to swoon over Potter, you can walk right out.” There was already one person here swooning over Potter, and there simply wasn’t room for two.

It was true, though. Potter had been… Well, Potter had been as good at Auror-ing as he was at everything else, and Draco had hated it as much as he’d been drawn to it, helplessly, just as he always had been throughout his school years. And strangely enough, despite their history, Draco and Potter had made a good team– a _really_ good team, which Draco was– or _had been_ very proud of, and he’d _thought_ Potter had been too. “Unbeatable,” as Freddie had said. Yes they fucking were. 

_Malfoy and Potter_ , Robards liked to brag when he checked on the Juniors after a long day, or when he felt like being validated, _They’re bloody record breakers._

And they were. Since Junior Aurors learned to do their absolute best by being pitted against each other in teams of two, this birthed an extremely competitive environment, and Potter, it seemed, flourished in a competitive environment. If anything, Draco was the one panting to keep up, not that he’d ever admit it aloud, or that he was all that bad himself.

“I’m not swooning over anyone. Just wondering.” Freddie eyed him, much less friendly and eager than he had been a few minutes ago. 

Harry always told him he drove people off when he first met them by acting superior– he knew from experience, he said, which was valid, since Draco had been a little bit of an arse in Madam Malkins– but if they didn’t want to stick around, he didn’t much _care_. They could go if they liked, and Draco didn’t feel much of a loss of their presence, all things considered.

Except for Potter. He’d always feel Potter’s absence acutely, which was bloody unfair, because Potter seemed to have completely lost his fixation with Draco once he was sure Draco wasn’t ‘ _up to anything_.’

Draco had driven Potter off, it seemed. Though not with lack of respect or affection, he was sure. Last week…

Draco winced and focused back on Freddie. “Get your things set up and stop staring at me. Whatever you want, I don’t have it– there’s nothing to tell.”

Freddie seemed to comply, shuffling his files into Potter’s desk– Freddie’s desk now, Draco corrected himself– oh Merlin, Potter must’ve come by during the weekend to clear the place out, and he could already see Freddie was neater than it had ever been when Potter was around. 

Draco hadn’t expected to miss Potter’s messiness– if anything, he’d always thought when Potter inevitably slipped out of Draco’s life, that would be one of the very few silver linings of the whole deal: less mess.

Draco stared at his own desk, impeccably organized, with no Potter to come and muss it up. He’d be _competing_ against Potter now, for the hightest partner-team solve-rate in the Junior Aurors… 

And now he was thinking about Potter again: his blinding grin as he bounded over to Draco’s side of the office, disregarding Draco’s _please stay on your side of the room_ , knocking over quills to tell Draco he had a hunch; Potter’s bright eyes as they left the office to track down whatever or whoever it was this time; the fire in Potter’s eyes as they closed in, his grace and his strength, his body against Draco’s as they huddled quietly between close walls or around a tight corner, listening.

“Don’t think he tossed you out without a thought about it.”

Draco held back a groan. “Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”

“I believe you told me to stop staring,” Freddie corrected, with no small amount of amusement in his voice. “And technically, I outrank you, just a bit.”

Draco _had_ thought he looked older. “Next year up, huh? Wonder how that came about.”

“Word going around says Potter was insistent that whoever you got paired with would have no problems with you.”

Draco’s heart tumbled in his chest, his stomach fluttering, even though he clenched his fists and willed himself to stop the warm feeling in his chest. Whatever Potter said, he’d still filed for a switch. “Bloody tosser. Of course, he did.” It wasn’t as if Potter wouldn’t do the same for anyone else, after all.

“You got a problem with the guy?” Freddie had turned to look at him now, and Draco could feel his confused stare against his back. How could anyone be bitter about someone as wonderful as Harry Potter? Well, Draco wasn’t bitter. Not at all, he was just…

Actually, he was bitter. And angry. And not at all falling apart at the seams, not Draco Malfoy, not the man who had, up until yesterday, been Junior Auror partners with the love of his life until–

Until Friday night, he guessed. Until he made sort of a bad decision.

“Not at all,” Draco said. “Entirely professional, Potter and I.”

“Really.” Freddie wasn’t even pretending to put away his things anymore, clinging to every word about Potter that Draco had to offer, though Draco didn’t plan on coughing up much more. Draco sighed and turned around, casting his eyes to the ceiling to make a point. “You looked a bit more than professional if the look on your face is anything to go by.”

Draco frowned immediately and tried to return his expression to a blank look, fighting a flush. “We’re most certainly _not_.”

“One way, is it?” Freddie’s blue eyes looked over him searchingly, his fingers tapping idly on his arm like he wasn’t trying to pry open Draco’s heart, peer inside of it, and then comment on how broken and pathetically pining it was. “Got a bird at home, and she always tells me she could see it, the moment I showed up on her doorstep, how much I wanted her. Said I looked lovesick. I said there was no such thing.”

“There isn’t–” Draco started, but was interrupted.

“Well, I thought so too until I saw you.” Freddie flicked his hand at Draco, and Draco turned away, focusing on cleaning his desk. Again. “You’ve got it all over you.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Draco said, “And inappropriate. This is a professional space.”

“All I’m saying is if you’re broken up over Potter, don’t take it out on me. Take it to Potter himself, if you have to. And if you try Dusting that desk any more, I reckon it’ll explode.”

Draco didn’t think that taking Freddie’s advice on _anything_ was worth a go, that prying, carelessly cruel prat, but then Potter was across the mess hall, looking fit and gorgeous and completely unbothered, as if he didn’t know he’d just turned Draco’s world entirely upside-down.

And yeah, so they hadn’t been entirely professional. They’d been friends, or at least Draco had thought they were friends, for months. At least. 

And so Draco would’ve expected a word or two, a goodbye, an explanation, _something,_ even if they both knew why, but Potter looked happy and sweet, laughing with his head thrown back a little, like it was so funny and everything was okay, and Draco couldn’t help marching over, his blood rushing in his veins, hot, angry, wanting.

They’d been friends and then some for a month, and looking at his wild hair and his infectious smile now, Draco couldn’t help remembering that smile against his own, that hair between his fingers, thick and soft. 

“Excuse me,” he said to the wizard who’d made Harry laugh. 

He held a tray of food in one hand and was waving the other animatedly, leaning into Harry and grinning up at him. _He_ was bloody obvious, not Draco. “Hi,” he said. Allen, that was his last name. Allen. “I’m Potter’s new partner. We should talk sometime, give me some tips.” He nudged Harry playfully, his eyes mischievous. “Tell me all his embarrassing stories, the dirty little secrets…”

Draco narrowed his eyes at Allen, feeling Harry look at him strangely for it. _Oh, the dirty little secrets? You have no idea, do you? That_ I’m _his dirty little secret._

Even if it had never felt that way, it was true. They ever told anyone they were anything other than friends, or Auror partners. When Draco had lost it and kissed Harry hard on the mouth, Harry had kissed him back, and that had been all there was to it. No labels, or commitment, or talking about it. Just a little more physical affection, a lot more teasing, and a stronger sort of friendship with kisses on top.

“Yeah, maybe not,” Draco said. “I’d like to speak to Potter alone, if you don’t mind?”

He didn’t look at Potter as he said it, though he could feel Harry looking at him curiously. He didn’t think he could bear it if he could, remembering Friday night and thinking about Potter’s heartbeat and his skin and his smile, the electricity of his fingertips and the fire in his eyes, not even now, when Potter was at his tamest, smiling politely in the lunch room.

“Sure thing,” Potter said, because Allen was fumbling a surprised _oh, well, I mean– I don’t suppose–_ “I’ll catch you later, Liam?”

Of course, Potter was on first-name basis with his new partner already, it wasn’t as if it had taken Draco half a year to get Potter to say _his_ first name or anything. 

Draco wondered if it had anything to do with the blue eyes and stubble and admittedly impressive arms. Not as good as Potter’s, but… objectively, _possibly_ better than Draco’s– but only possibly. Draco _did_ work out, occasionally, and he _was_ a looker in his own right, wasn’t he? _Wasn’t he_?

Potter followed him, still watching him apprehensively, as Malfoy found them the first empty room– a storage room, he guessed, full of desks too close to be useful, and with shelves full of various parchments and boxes of quills– and shut the door behind them.

“Er– Draco? Dunno if you could be bothered to be nicer to my partner, seeing as– well–”

“He’s your partner, and I’m not,” Draco finished for him turning then. Potter had already perched himself on one of the desks, since the room was devoid of chairs, and he looked rather comfortable there, sitting casually, leaning back a little, his hands propped behind him. “Which– what the hell, Potter?”

Harry looked at him, his eyes almost amused, his mouth twisting like it was trying not to smile. Draco’s heart skipped a beat when those green eyes met his own. “I'd've talked to you about it, but you didn't seem like you wanted to talk to me just then,” Potter explained, which, _fine_ , no he hadn’t. 

But only because he’d been having a bit of a crisis– he’d just slept with someone for the first time– and Harry Potter, the person he’d wanted for _ages_ , no less. He couldn’t think with Potter in the room, all beautiful and grinning like he’d had fun and wasn’t tearing himself to pieces inside and out trying not to hope for too much and melting in a hot furnace of thinking about what they’d just done.

“I didn't mean I regretted it,” Draco blurted out, feeling a fool the moment it was out of his mouth. It’s just– he had been a bit sharp with Potter that morning. Not kicking him out of the house, but asking him to please give him a minute in a tone that had Potter hightailing it out. 

He remembered Potter hadn’t even protested, just kissed the top of his head, said, _later, then_ , and left. Even though it had been Draco’s idea in the first place, or rather, Draco’s libido, he supposed, that had gotten them in bed that Friday night, although if one was really pointing blame, it would be Potter’s fault for bloody _looking like that–_

Harry smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners the way they did when he was feeling fond of Draco. Draco’s chest went warm. “No, no of course not.”

Draco felt his face flush at the implication that _Potter_ knew it was an impossibility for Draco to _ever_ regret sleeping with him, how could Harry ever think such a thing like that? “Bloody hell, does everyone know how I am about you?”

Potter flushed, a pleased little smile on his lips, and Draco felt as if he might need to sit down too, even if he didn’t really believe in sitting on desktops. 

“Well, about half the Aurors seem to.” Potter looked at him wryly, sitting up now, and leaning forward to prop his chin on his hands like a curious child and not a heartbreaker in the form of an angel. “Guess I was the last to know, huh?”

How Potter could’ve been the last to know was beyond Draco completely. He _did_ try his best to keep his feelings under wraps, especially around other people, who tended to be a whole lot more perceptive about Draco’s feelings towards Potter than Potter himself, but even so, it wasn’t exactly as if he hid it behind locked doors. 

Friday night came back vividly, _again_ : the evening light of the sun setting as Draco ate dinner with Potter at his place, since Potter didn’t like to cook, and how Potter had been talking animatedly about the case they’d just tied up, even though Draco had been there, his tongue over his lips as he drank his water, his kiss as they curled up on the couch. 

Draco had been the one to reach for the hem of Potter’s shirt, and Potter had been the one to say _I don’t think this is a good idea._

“Listen, Potter, I–I.” Draco could feel himself flushing red at the mention of it– Merlin, was this what it was like to talk about having had sex? Draco had thought being embarrassed about sex was a virgin thing, but he was still very much embarrassed. 

_I don’t care,_ Draco had gasped against Harry’s lips– he’d thought he might as well call him Harry if they were going to fuck. _You’re the best bad thing that could ever happen to me._ So much for being subtle about his feelings, he thought, in retrospect. Not exactly the most indirect thing to say.

He’d reached for the edge of Harry’s trousers next. _Yes?_ he’d asked. _Yes,_ Harry had said.

Draco swallowed hard, trying to drive out the memory through sheer force of will. “Friday night, I shouldn't have– I should've listened to you, I didn't mean to–”

Potter’s eyebrows drew together, his amused smile melting into something more earnest. “Oh, calm your tits. I consented, didn't I?” 

Harry reached for Draco and tugged his hand, running his thumb over Draco’s knuckles, not tenderly, just… to do it, it seemed. Almost curiously. 

Harry _had_ , but he was such a giving person, so willing to help, and Draco had practically been begging Harry to fuck him. It wasn’t really… fucking though. It was too sweet for that, and infinitely better because of it, which had– for the moment– made Draco think that perhaps his feelings were partway returned, though obviously not as fervent.

Draco ran a hand through his hair, and then quickly back, so as not to muss it. “Just– listen. I've kept my hands off you for years, and I can keep doing that.” He could. He _would_ , if Harry would take him back on, and they could go back to sharing jokes and laughing, and being _friends_ , if nothing else. “If that's what you want. I'm capable of self-control–”

Harry’s hand tightened on his own, his head shooting up. “Oh Draco.” Draco tried not to feel anything about his given name in Harry’s mouth. He failed. “Did you think I split us because I regretted it?”

“...Is that not– why–?”

Harry’s face went soft and concerned in a heartbeat, understanding washing over his face. Draco’s mind spun– what else– _why else_ – They’d had their fun with their hands, and then they’d gone too far for Harry’s liking, and so Harry had dropped Draco completely– _right?_

Harry tugged him closer by the hand and tilted Draco’s chin up, forcing Draco to look him in the eyes. They were green as ever, only when Draco looked at him, he couldn’t help remembering them free of the glasses, Harry over him, Harry in the morning, rubbing his eyes…

“Merlin,” Harry was saying, “Merlin, of course I don't regret it. God’s sake, Draco…”

He was running a steady hand through Draco’s hair now, Draco leaning into him without a thought, looking at Draco with such a tender look that Draco thought he might go boneless. He was so close, too, close enough that Draco could see the light green and the dark green of Harry’s eyes, close enough that his eyes hurt a little from Harry’s prescription.

“God,” Harry murmured again, “Come here.” He pulled Draco even closer, between his knees, a hand in the hair on the back of Draco’s head.

When he kissed Draco, it was gentle, like an embrace, or maybe a reassurance. He still tasted like coffee, the way he liked it: with so much sugar and cream it wasn’t really coffee anymore. 

He kissed just like Draco remembered. It hadn’t even been more than two days, but it already felt like Draco had been missing him a lifetime– something about thinking he’d never have this again, that he’d fucked it all up and they’d never kiss like this, with Harry’s hands in Draco’s hair and Draco clinging to him helplessly, arms about his shoulders so as not to stumble as his knees went weak from the feel of Harry’s tongue.

Harry’s hands slipped to his waist, bracketing his hips to tug him closer, closer so that they were pressed flush, chest to chest, Harry’s breathing steady against Draco’s fluttering heart. 

“Funny way of showing it,” Draco murmured when they pulled apart, pressing his forehead to Harry’s, but looking down. “Got yourself a handsome new partner and everything.”

“Draco!” Draco could feel Harry’s laugh, soft and surprised. “You can’t possibly be jealous of Liam, you’ve hardly met him!”

“You’re already calling him Liam,” Draco said, sounding very petulant even to himself. “Why would you even need a new partner if you still– if you–” he wasn’t sure, actually. They’d never labelled themselves or anything, although Harry had dropped _Merlin, the things you do to me_ , once, and Draco had thought that very nearly meant _something_ , and Draco had said… well, he’d said _something_ , he was sure of it. 

What would be the correct way to complete that sentence? _Still enjoy my company? Still want to be around me?_

“Fancy you very much,” Harry finished, running a hand through Draco’s hair and pushing it off his forehead. “And you aren’t allowed to be jealous of Liam, because he’s my Auror partner, and–” here he looked at Draco very pointedly, tipped his chin up and everything– “Auror partners can’t date.”

“Oh,” said Draco, because who even cared? Harry could still leave him for Liam if he– if he… if he split the partnership. “ _Oh_ ,” he said again, with much more feeling, because he couldn’t for the life of him find other words in the entire English language when his mind was going white with bliss– only no, here was something to say: “Harry,” he whispered, and then combined the two: “Oh, _Harry_.”

Harry looked slightly amused and heartachingly fond, his hands sliding up Draco’s back to hold him even more completely. “Yeah,” he murmured, kissing Draco’s forehead, “took you long enough.”

“Are you– are we–” he swallowed hard, his breath caught in his chest. “Dating, then?”

Harry’s warm hands linked behind his back so he could look properly at Draco. “If you like.” He worried his bottom lip as if unsure of Draco’s answer. “It was more of a– y’know. So that we could, if you happened to want to.”

Draco surged forward and kissed Harry like he had something to prove. In a way, he supposed he did. “I do, I do,” he chanted, half afraid it wasn’t getting through Harry’s stupid, sentimental skull, “I want to. You have no idea.”

Harry smiled looking at him with a fresh spark in his eye, something bright and happy to match the rising sun in Draco’s own chest. “I have a bit of an idea, now.”

Draco flushed, remembering Freddie telling him his feelings were written all over his face. “We’ll be competing on cases,” he told Harry, because someone had to say it.

Harry shrugged, grinning. “Just like school then, right? Except this time, we’ll like each other, so it’ll be alright.”

“I liked you in school, too,” Draco said, drunk on the mischief tucked into the corner of Harry’s smile. Harry’s eyebrows shot up, and he hastened to change the subject, not the least bit subtly, “Now we won’t be record-breakers, and I won’t be there to haul your sorry arse along.”

Harry snorted, mussing his hair in retaliation to the comment. “I was hauling _your_ sorry arse around for everything except paperwork, you prat.” 

Harry slipped off the desk and wound his arm around Draco’s waist, which was good, because Draco still felt a little bit dazed and wasn’t quite sure whether he could manage standing up on his weak knees and _also_ walking in the right direction without guidance.

“I’m warning you, Liam and I are going to make your pristine solve-records look like hell.”

Draco looked up at him, taking this one little moment just for himself before they went back into the lunch hall– Harry’s hair, even wilder than usual from Draco’s hands and his mouth pinker than usual from kissing, Draco’s whole body still tingling from his embrace and the heaven making home in his chest. 

“I don’t care,” he said, “You’re the best bad thing that could ever happen to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I'm on Tumblr @[tigerlilycorinne-drarry-me](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/tigerlilycorinne-drarry-me). Unless you'd like to say hi on my messy, messy main, @[tigerlilycorinne](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/tigerlilycorinne)...


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